Broken Dreams Read online

  She nodded, turned away and said she would. I offered to buy Sarah lunch, once we were done with our next appointments. It’d delay telling Don what I’d done.

  Sonia Bray was in her late thirties and without wishing to be unkind, she was the very definition of mousey. We’d agreed to meet in Queens Gardens. I found an empty bench and made sure I was holding the newspaper in my hand, as arranged. She sat down next to me and explained her office was only a five minute walk away.

  ‘Thanks for meeting me’ I said, offering her a smile. ‘I appreciate it.’ I told her what had happened to Jennifer Murdoch.

  Bray nodded and composed herself. ‘Obviously no one deserves to be murdered, but I’ve moved on. I told Sheila I’d try to help you if I could.’

  I looked at the notes I’d made. ‘Sheila said you had to leave the company.’ I left the question open-ended, to encourage her to explain in her own words.

  ‘Jennifer Murdoch,’ she started, ‘took advantage of me. I had personal problems and I couldn’t think straight. I’m not proud of what happened but I couldn’t stop it.’

  ‘Something about missing money?’

  She nodded and put her drink down. ‘The auditor found some discrepancies in the accounts. I’m only the person who inputs invoices and payments and such like, but I can’t sit here and pretend I understand how accounts are prepared. What the auditor was saying didn’t make sense to me but Jennifer started saying it was my fault. With all the problems I was having, I couldn’t think it through. Eventually, Jennifer said the auditor has completed their investigation and there was a problem. She said she had no choice but to sack me. If I left quietly, she’d make sure I received a severance package and a good reference. If I didn’t go quietly, she’d recommend to Mr Briggs that I was sacked.’

  ‘Not a pleasant position to be in’ I said, knowing she’d chosen to leave quietly.

  ‘I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong but I couldn’t be sure, either. My mother was ill and I didn’t want to upset her unnecessarily.’

  ‘And you didn’t want Briggs to become involved?’

  She shook her head. ‘Jennifer said he’d call the police.’

  ‘What’s Mr Briggs like to work for? We only met him a couple of days ago. He struck me as the kind of man who doesn’t suffer fools lightly. Would you say that’s reasonable?’

  ‘Very much so. Some people think he’s a bit mean, but he’s not. He expects you to do the job he pays you to do. It’s perfectly normal, surely?’

  ‘Of course. What was the severance package?’

  ‘Jennifer gave me £1,000 and told me to go. She’d make sure there was no further action and I got the reference I needed.’

  ‘And that was the end of the matter?’

  ‘Until Sheila said she had her suspicions and I started to think it through. We meet occasionally for a drink. She told me about the holidays Murdoch was taking with her husband, the designer clothes she was wearing and the expensive jewellery.’

  ‘Christopher Murdoch’s a successful businessman. I assume they could afford things like that if they wanted them?’

  She shook her head and smiled. ‘I was always taking telephone calls on her behalf from people chasing her for money. Obviously I can’t be sure, but I don’t believe they were as wealthy as she made out.’

  I thought I knew where she was heading. ‘And you’d think if the auditors thought there was a discrepancy, they’d have an obligation to tell Briggs?’ I said, partly thinking aloud.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘But Jennifer dealt with it all?’

  ‘She did.’

  ‘Did she pay you the money with a company cheque?’

  ‘No. Cash.’

  Untraceable. I sat back and thought about it for a moment.

  ‘But how would it work? Why didn’t the auditors blow the whistle to Briggs?’

  ‘Jennifer used to work for the auditors.’

  Of course. I smiled to myself. I remembered Sheila telling me that. ‘She knew the person the auditors sent, didn’t she?’ I said, smiling to myself.

  Bray looked me in the eye for the first time. ‘That’s right.’

  Sarah had beaten me to the cafe, so I quickly read the menu and ordered our drinks and food. I went for a much needed shot of caffeine and a BLT sandwich, Sarah opting for a healthier juice and salad combination.

  ‘How did you get on?’ I asked.

  Sarah put her drink down. ‘Yeah, interesting. She worked with Donna, but she didn’t really know her that well.’

  I wasn’t surprised. The difficulty in this job was judging whether people were able to help you, or just wanted to take the money. Maybe I was more cynical than Sarah, but I’d back myself to sniff-out a time-waster and I hadn’t been impressed with Glew when we’d met her, even though she’d immediately set up a meeting between her friend and Sarah.

  ‘They’d worked on the same production line, packing aerosol cans’ Sarah explained. ‘They weren’t really close friends, more mates you see at work. This was just over four years ago and she’s not heard from Donna since.’

  ‘Where did she go?’

  ‘She didn’t know. Apparently, she walked out and didn’t come back.’

  I thought about it. ‘Why? It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘That’s what happened. No swapping of phone numbers, no leaving drinks, nothing.’

  ‘What could she tell us?’

  ‘Not much. There was a boyfriend on the scene but she never met him. He worked at the factory as well.’

  ‘Still there?’

  She nodded. We’d be talking to him.

  ‘We’re not much further forward, are we?’

  Sarah shrugged. ‘We know Donna was definitely in Hull a few years ago. She might still be here.’

  ‘Without her family knowing?’

  ‘It’s a big city.’

  That was true. It was big enough to get lost in if you wanted to. ‘Did you get any other leads at the factory?’ I asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘But we got the boyfriend’s name?’

  ‘I’ve already rang it through to Dad.’

  It was something. Don might be able to dig something out.

  ‘I also went to the shop on Hessle Road where Donna worked’ Sarah said.

  ‘Which shop?’

  ‘The one her mother told me about. She worked part-time in an off-licence. I went on the off-chance somebody remembered her. It’s a horrible place; one of those which has its employees behind a big Perspex screen and you have to shout to make yourself heard.’

  I knew the sort she meant. They were everywhere nowadays. If there was an off-licence, it was likely there would be groups of kids hanging around outside. And that usually meant trouble. ‘Any luck?’ I asked.

  ‘I spoke to the owner. She remembered Donna. Her son, who’d also worked in the shop, had dated her for a while, but they’ve not heard from her once she left the shop. She dumped the son and that was that.’

  ‘And that was before she formed 2’s Company?’

  ‘Around the same time. I got the details of the son, though, so we can speak to him. I think they’d like to know what happened to Donna, too.’

  The food arrived and as we started to eat, I turned my thoughts to Jennifer Murdoch. What concerned me most was that the police themselves were watching the house. I was embarrassed I’d been seen there, but Don wasn’t the kind of person who dwelt on such things. He didn’t need to say anything. The lesson has been learnt. So far, our enquiries into Murdoch had produced little. Certainly not enough to give an insight into the police surveillance. If the police weren’t looking at her, it made sense that they had to be watching her husband.

  ‘Still with us?’ asked Sarah, placing her knife and fork down.

  I apologised and told her I was miles away. I didn’t want to voice my suspicions about Christopher Murdoch yet. I wanted to know more about him first.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  As I expected, Do
n had gone ballistic. I’d sat in my chair and let him tear a strip off me. He’d thrown the file he’d put together on Frank Salford at me. Since leaving the licensed trade, Salford had been busy. His massage parlour was well known to the police and several undercover operations had been mounted, though nothing had stuck. There was also the suggestion he was linked to organised crime, through the Eastern European women he employed. I thought back to the women who were working in the parlour and knew he wasn’t somebody you messed with lightly. I had no idea what I was getting myself involved in. After Don had calmed down, I told him what we’d learnt about Donna Platt. Although we hadn’t found her, we knew she’d been in Hull much more recently than we had thought. Sarah had trawled public records and hadn’t found any reference to her death, so we had to assume she was still alive. Don was pleased with the progress, but mindful of the lack of money coming in. I’d decided it was his problem. If he wanted to take Sarah to task on the matter, that was his business. I looked at my list of phone calls to return and decided I wasn’t in the mood.

  ‘I need to know what happened to Jennifer Murdoch’ I said to Don. I was chewing the end of a biro. ‘I spent a couple of hours being questioned.’

  ‘But they won’t have you down as a serious suspect.’

  ‘I don’t want to be any kind suspect.’

  Don pulled up a chair and sat down. ‘It’s procedure. Nothing to worry about.’

  ‘I’m not worried’ I said, though I didn’t necessarily believe it.

  ‘It needs to run its course, that’s all.’

  ‘What do you really know about Coleman?’

  ‘Not much. I’m waiting to hear back but word is he’s a decent guy. All I know about him is that he transferred in from Sheffield a few years back. I know you don’t like him, but from what I can gather, he won’t mess you around.

  Don picked my mug up and asked if I wanted a coffee. I nodded and thought about things. Whether or not Coleman is on the level, I don’t want to be under suspicion. Don carefully placed the steaming mug on my desk. ‘I’m going to take a look at Murdoch’s husband’ I said. ‘If the police were watching the house, it seems reasonable to assume they were looking at him.’

  ‘Because we’ve not turned up anything on Jennifer Murdoch?’

  I nodded. ‘It seems logical.’ I’d done some more research.

  ‘Managing Director of FutureVision Limited. Jennifer Murdoch is also listed as a director and company secretary.’

  ‘Doesn’t necessarily mean anything, though, does it? She could be involved for tax reasons?’

  I nodded my agreement and passed over some print-outs, including several newspaper articles. Christopher Murdoch had become a local celebrity, never far from the headlines. ‘He formed the company five years ago, just as the regeneration boom started to take grip around the city. Before that, he’d led government funded organisations in delivering similar projects. I assume he discovered the private sector was more lucrative.

  One thing you had to say Murdoch possessed was vision. He had a clear picture of how the city should develop and what it needed to rival Yorkshire cities like Leeds and Sheffield. Not surprisingly, this ability, together with a seemingly effortless charm, made him a man in demand and he now seemed to be a consultant on every major project undertaken in the city.

  Don handed me the information back. ‘A man in demand.’

  ‘Has he been interviewed yet?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m sure he will have been but I might find out more a bit later on. I’m meeting Bill for a drink.’ Bill was an old colleague of Don’s who’d stuck at it when everyone else was getting their years in and leaving. Their friendship went back decades and was invaluable to us on a professional level. Although he’d stop short of giving us the inside track on the investigation, he’d mark our card for us.

  ‘So we don’t know about the forensics either?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Or potential suspects?’

  Don shook his head.

  I told him about my talk with Sonia Bray.

  ‘And you think she would have sufficient motive for killing Murdoch?’

  I was far from convinced myself. It didn’t feel right, but I’ve known such things happen for less. I could tell Don was sceptical but at least he was showing some interest. ‘I don’t know whether Bray was stupid or naive but the implication that Murdoch and the auditors were acting together is interesting. She was bitter, but she also suggested the Murdochs weren’t as well off as you might think. It also made Briggs’s attitude easier to understand.’ I told Don I’d take a more thorough look at Bray but even if she wasn’t involved, she might give us a lead on the underlying cause of Murdoch’s murder.

  Don stood up and walked across to the telephone. I organised my print-outs on Christopher Murdoch and hole-punched them, ready for filing. I needed to know more and I knew who to ask.

  Don sat back down. ‘Time waster.’ He passed me a folder to put my print-outs in. ‘Sarah rang me earlier and mentioned Donna Platt, but it was only in passing, we didn’t get chance to really talk about it.’

  ‘She was definitely in the city more recently than we first thought.’ I told him what Sarah had learnt about her working in a local factory.

  Don passed me over a sheet of paper. ‘The boyfriend from the factory’ he said.

  I glanced through the information. Once again Don had come up with the goods - convictions for assault stood out.

  ‘I’ve got us an appointment with someone I used to work with to tell us more about Salford’ he said. ‘The name makes me nervous. I want to know more about him first hand.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘About an hour’s time.’

  The telephone rang again. Don answered it, and covering the mouthpiece, told me it was Terrence Briggs. That made it my turn to put the kettle on. I made the usual coffee for myself and a milky tea for Don. I walked back into the office and waited for him to terminate the call.

  ‘He wants to know what’s going on.’

  ‘I assume the police have spoken to him again?’ I said.

  ‘Dragged him out of a meeting, which upset him, as you can imagine.’

  I smiled. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘They wanted to run down his alibi. Obviously he can’t deny he’s got issues with the woman.’

  ‘I suppose not.’ I drank a mouthful of coffee and quickly checked my mobile for any new texts.

  ‘Just being thorough. They’ve got to run down every possible lead.’

  ‘Was he sounding off?’

  Don nodded. ‘Pretty much. I don’t think he’s a man who takes very kindly to being questioned. And apparently it’s our fault.’

  ‘Why is it?’

  ‘Because we told the police about him.’

  ‘Of course we did. What does he expect?’

  ‘He doesn’t think we should be getting him involved.’

  ‘Tough. He is involved. He asked for our help. If he’s that bothered, he should have said it to our faces.’

  ‘If I didn’t know better, I think being questioned rattled him a bit; put him under pressure.’

  Makes two of us, I thought.

  ‘Did you ask him about Sonia Bray?’

  ‘He said Jennifer Murdoch had dealt with it when she sacked her. He was on holiday at the time. He knew he wouldn’t get the money back, so he let it drop.’

  I wondered if there was more to the story than we knew. Briggs didn’t seem like the type of employer who’d be so laid back about an employee stealing from him. I half-listened to Don, as he continued talking, but I had turned my thoughts back to Christopher Murdoch.

  We sat in the corner of the pub, well away from the other customers. Although some parts of the city were now overrun with stylish cafe-bars, Anlaby Road remained resolutely old-school. We were waiting for a former colleague of Don’s, Gerard Branning, to arrive. Branning had worked in CID all his life before taking early retirement five years ago. Don told me Branning had been i
nvolved in several investigations into Frank Salford throughout the last 30 years. He was the man to ask. Don’s involvement with Salford had been limited and his knowledge limited to hear-say. Branning still liked to patrol his old stomping ground, so the pub was the best venue. Spotting us in the corner, he ordered a drink and joined us. Don stood up and shook his hand. I did likewise.

  ‘Thanks for coming, Gerard’ said Don. ‘We appreciate your time.’

  Branning sat down. ‘When you said it was in relation to Salford, I couldn’t resist.’

  Don had already briefed me on the history. Salford had been the one who had got away. Seemingly, every detective had one. Despite Branning’s efforts, he’d never secured a single conviction against Salford.

  ‘His name’s come up in one of our investigations’ I said.

  ‘We’re looking for someone. She disappeared about ten years ago, aged nineteen. She was in a group managed for a while by Salford.’

  ‘What was the band called?’

  ‘2’s Company.’

  Branning shook his head. ‘Doesn’t ring a bell, but I remember Salford having a dabble in the music industry. He owned a club for a while and had singers on and the like. It was the place to be seen for a while, if you’re into that scene.’

  ‘He runs a massage parlour now’ I said.

  Branning nodded. ‘Amongst other things.’

  ‘I went round there and asked for him’ I explained. ‘I was escorted off the premises.’

  ‘Sounds about right for our Frank. He’s zero tolerance. Even these days. Has Don told you about him?’

  I shook my head. Don hadn’t had much direct involvement with investigations over the years into Salford’s affairs. We’d agreed it was best to let Branning explain.

  ‘Whatever else you might hear, Salford’s a career criminal’ he started. ‘He first came to our attention in the mid to late seventies as one of the top lads in the hooligan gangs. There was a surge in football hooliganism around this time. You’d get gangs from around the city, like the Bransholme lads and the Avenue lads going to the matches, and they were mad. They’d be off their heads on cheap drugs; amphetamines and the like and they travelled around the country on double-decker buses. The traditional rivalry in the city was drawn down the lines of which rugby league team you followed, so the football gangs needed someone to draw it all together. Once Salford had done that, he cashed in on his hooligan kudos. He offered to run the doors of some of the city’s nightclubs. Sometimes the offers were made more forcefully, depending upon the owner’s attitude. Once he had a way in, he started to control the supply of drugs in these places. His football activities gave him the contacts he needed to get the stuff. As time moved on, he stopped his direct involvement in the football trouble. He knew we were on to him, and frankly, we’d have taken any arrest, even a public disorder offence. In 1979, as the drugs trade became more serious, one of his major rivals in the area disappeared. And when I say disappeared, I mean, totally disappeared. We investigated, as did this man’s people. Although the word was Salford was behind the killing, we never came remotely close to building a case. His speciality for dealing with those who crossed him was either burying them alive or throwing them overboard at sea. Not that we ever recovered a body we could connect to him.’